


Breathe

by orphan_account



Category: Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: M/M, mild mentions of violence and death, this was a warm up exercise but it turned out really good so uh?? enjoy some mini gay I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 15:04:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7897294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At first, Forde thinks it a lecture. But it dawns on him then, from tired eyes and a clenched jaw, that it isn't the case.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathe

The stench of death is overwhelming, and yet Forde doesn't wrinkle his nose at it. It was commonplace, after all. Who wields a sword without the intent to kill? Right or not, it's not like he has much choice. The bodies of enemy soldiers and the clang of metal ring victory, against all odds. Four of them, only four against an entire army. If there was any time to shout victory, it was now. And yet, he was silent, completely silent.

Rubbing his dry mouth with the back of his hand, he isn't shocked to see the dirty skin redden. It's then the scent hits him, metallic and heavy. He wondered how he didn't notice it sooner, given a good amount of it had fallen from his nose and dried above his lip. Perhaps he was too distracted in the heat of battle, with nothing but strained muscle and ingrained tactics to keep him alive.

"Forde!" His short, impromptu session of reflection is broken by a familiar voice. And he chuckles, just a little bit, even if it kind of hurts his face to do so. Couldn't Kyle's critiques of his actions wait a few moments? After all they've done, in the face of unlikeliness, need he yell at him as usual? Was he not allowed a moment to breathe?

Forde's about to give a quip in return, as at first, Forde thinks it a lecture. But it dawns on him then, from tired eyes and a clenched jaw, that it isn't the case. Not this time. Kyle's eyebrows wrinkle his forehead and his grip on the horse's reins tightens, Forde feels he's looking right through him, and he needs to catch his breath again. Was he looking down on him? On his hair now flowing free and the scarlet and dirt and sweat staining his face? Kyle's hand reaches out and he finds a handkerchief scraping away the stale red crust, he's too stunned to break his stare. What? That wasn't like him, and Forde's question is answered before he rides away. "Don't leave my sight again."

It wasn't a lecture so much as a plea, he realizes.


End file.
